


Always and Forever

by wyntirrose



Series: Trials and Blessings [14]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-19
Updated: 2008-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntirrose/pseuds/wyntirrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A failed battle, a publicity nightmare, and two mechs finding comfort in each other for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was my entry to the MechaErotica January "Firsts" Challenge.

Ratchet stood by Ironhide's bed watching the monitors with dull optics. He had succeeded in fixing the most urgent of his injuries, but he wouldn't know if the dangerous operation had succeeded until the old warhorse came back on line and it could be hours before that happened. For now, however, he was stable, and that was what was important.

With a barely perceptible sigh, Ratchet looked away from the monitors and took in the rest of the recovery ward. In total thirteen mechs had been injured seriously enough to end up in the med bay and another ten with what had turned out to be minor or cosmetic damage. And those twenty three didn't include the human casualties. At last count the authorities were reporting dozens dead and hundreds injured after a routine battle at a research facility had spilled over onto a busy highway.

The press was having a field day. It didn't matter how much damage control Jazz and Optimus did, all the media was showing was the school bus full of children that Bruticus had stepped on. It didn't matter that Bruticus was a Decepticon, or that Ironhide had nearly been killed trying to save the children, the Autobots were being blamed.

Ratchet shuttered his optics and ran a shaking hand over them in a distinctly human gesture. He was exhausted, his fuel reserves were dwindling to a near critical level, and he was filthy, having only taken the time to sterilize his hands and arms before starting the surgeries. There was nothing more to be done here, but it didn't matter, he couldn't bring himself to leave until he was sure of everyone's status.

"There's nothin' more you can do here," Wheeljack said, echoing his thoughts as he placed a comforting hand on the small of Ratchet's back. "You need to get some rest."

"I'm fine," Ratchet said as he moved on to Bluestreak's still form. He paused as he realized that he'd been far sharper than he'd intended. "Honestly, Jack," he said, turning back to his friend with an exhausted smile. "I'll be fine. I can't leave until I'm sure of everything."

"Ratch, you've done all you can," Wheeljack said patiently. "You look like you're about to collapse. Please, go get some energon and some recharge. We can hold the fort for a few hours."

Swoop and First Aid looked up from their stations and nodded their agreement, but otherwise knew to stay out of the discussion.

"I am not that bad off," Ratchet sighed.

"Not that bad off? Ratch! You're practically walking wounded!"

"Don't exaggerate. I'll get some recharge once I'm done here. I promise."

Wheeljack rolled his optics and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ratch, I've known you for way too long to fall for that." He held up his hand to stave off the protest. "Yeah, I know you're planning on recharging once you're done; but I also know that you won't be done here until every single mech in here walks out of here under his own power."

"No, I'll go as soon as I've checked everything," Ratchet replied, exasperation creeping into his tone, as he moved on to the berth that held Cliffjumper. The red minibot was deep in recharge recovering from the effects of a cerebro shell.

"You know as well as I do that as soon as you've checked them all you'll find an excuse to check them again," Wheeljack replied. "Nothin's gonna change if you step away for a couple of hours. Now will you please just go? I don't want to make it an order."

Ratchet snorted in disbelief and turned to the machines that were monitoring Hound.

"I'm the Chief and this is my medbay. You may outrank me but you don't have the right to order me off the floor. Only Prime can do that."

"True. But he'll back me up on this and you know it."

Ratchet turned away from the Lancia and walked back into the med bay proper.

"I'm tired of this game Jack. I said I'd rest when I'm done and I will. Now quit joking around and go check on the Twins," Ratchet said in an exasperated tone as he began making notes on a data pad.

"The Twins are fine and I'm not joking Ratchet," Wheeljack said sternly. When it was obvious that the CMO was ignoring him, Wheeljack sighed and shook his head. "Look, just go get a cube of energon and hit the wash racks. Please? I don't want to have to fix you up tomorrow because you've worn your systems down."

Ratchet paused and looked up at his best friend. His optics were pale and he was obviously fighting tremors, but the determined look on his face said more than words ever could. Wheeljack was about to try a different tack when Prowl strode in, looking stern and aggravated, still covered in dirt and filth from the battle.

"How is everyone?" he asked. His voice was cool, but there was an edge to it that spoke volumes to the strain this debacle had put him under.

"Just about everyone's fine," Wheeljack said quickly before Ratchet could reply. "The surgeries all went well and now we're just waiting for them to come back online."

"Yes," Ratchet added, shooting an annoyed look at the inventor. "We'll know by tomorrow what the situation is, but I have no-"

"The only problem," Wheeljack said loudly, interrupting Ratchet, "is that our CMO has decided to put himself last again."

Prowl turned to Ratchet and his look softened.

"Is this true, Ratchet?" he asked.

"No," Ratchet replied stubbornly. "I'm fine."

"No, he isn't," Wheeljack said. "Will you please get him out of here? I don't want to pull rank on him, but I will if I've got to."

"You wouldn't dare!" Ratchet growled, turning on Wheeljack suddenly.

"I'm hoping I won't have to," the inventor replied, looking at Prowl beseechingly.

"Ratch," Prowl said, placing his hands on Ratchet's shoulders and looking him in the optics, "can I please convince you to get just a bit of fuel? I promise we can come right back if you want."

Ratchet looked about to protest but then seemed to collapse in on himself as exhaustion finally hit.

"Fine," he said quietly. "Fine."

Prowl moved to guide him out of the med bay, but Ratchet turned back to Wheeljack.

"But you have to contact me if anything changes here," Ratchet said sternly. "I mean it, Jack! If even the slightest thing-"

"I get it, Ratch and I will. Don't worry." Wheeljack took Ratchet by the shoulders and turned him away from the med bay. "If even one of the machines beeps out of synch I'll call you. Now get out."

Prowl gently placed his arm around Ratchet's waist in an uncharacteristic public show of affection and led the medic out of the bay.

"You cannot keep doing this to yourself," Prowl said softly as he pulled Ratchet close against his side. "We can't afford to lose you. I can't lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Ratchet replied softly. "I just need a bit of fuel and I'll be fine ... Where are we going?" he asked looking around the hall in confusion.

"My quarters," Prowl said simply.

"Oh no!" Ratchet protested as he pulled away from the 2IC. "I agreed to fuel and a shower, not recharge. I have to get back to work."

Prowl stepped closer and placed his hand on Ratchet's chest. He looked up into the medic's optics.

"I never said anything about recharge," Prowl said patiently. "I brought you here so you could eat and wash in private. I have some energon in my quarters and one of the perks of my position is a personal wash rack."

"Oh," Ratchet said dumbly as he wrapped his arms around Prowl's waist. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," Prowl replied as he leaned into Ratchet's arms. "I just want you to-"

Ratchet cut Prowl off with a chaste kiss, drawing the 2IC in a tight hug.

"What was that for?" Prowl asked with a small, embarrassed smile as he pulled away slightly.

"Thank you," Ratchet replied in a whisper. "Thank you for … for being here."

"I'm not going anywhere," Prowl said affectionately as he pulled away from Ratchet's embrace. "Let's get back to my quarters before you collapse."

Prowl placed his hand on Ratchet's back running his fingers in a small circle between his shoulders before continuing down the hall. They walked in silence; fingers entwined, taking comfort in each other. When they arrived at the 2IC's quarters Ratchet leaned against the wall as Prowl punched in the code and opened the door.

"Come on in," Prowl said motioning into the room. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll get the energon."

Ratchet followed him in and looked around. This was the first time he had been in here and took in everything. Had the Ark still been in space and if she had had a full complement, this would have been the Captain's quarters. When Optimus had taken over the Admiral's quarters this suite had fallen to Prowl. And it looked like he had just moved in.

The living area of the quarters contained a desk and chair, a set of built in shelves and cabinets, a couch, and a large recharge berth big enough to hold Grimlock and still have room to spare. The room was bare and Spartan, looking more like an office than living quarters. The only personal touches were a pair of sparring swords mounted on the wall and a replica of a Cybertronian mural above the berth. Ratchet approached the picture and examined it carefully. The colours were incredible; the image surreal, but there was something entrancing about it.

Prowl came up behind him and pressed a cube of energon into his hands before wrapping his arms around his waist; hugging him from behind.

"This piece is incredible," Ratchet said, still staring at the picture.

"It is," Prowl replied. "It's a replica of a piece done by Sunstreaker."

"Really?" Ratchet asked, surprised.

"Yes. He was an incredible artist at one point," Prowl said.

He gave Ratchet one final squeeze before separating and getting a cube of energon for himself.

"Drink up," he said. "You need the fuel."

"Yes dear," Ratchet said with a teasing smile.

He moved over to the couch and took a sip of his energon; a sip that quickly turned into a huge gulp that emptied the cube in one shot. He lowered the cube and sat on the couch heavily, one hand over his midriff as his tanks growled angrily.

"I guess I was hungrier than I realized," he said quietly as he closed his optics and brought one hand up to his forehead.

Prowl gently removed the empty cube and replaced it with a fresh one. Ratchet finished off that one as quickly as he had the first.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Ratchet," he said softly as he knelt in front of the medic, taking his hand gently.

"Prowl, I honestly didn't know-," Ratchet cut himself off with a shake of his head. "You're right. I just get so caught up that-"

Prowl put his fingers over Ratchet's mouth.

"I know," he said. "You're dedicated. And I love you for it. But you can't get so caught up that you forget to eat."

Ratchet kissed Prowl's fingers. "You know the humans have a saying about pots and kettles that would apply here," he said with a smile.

Prowl arched one optic ridge and sat back on his heels. "Pots and kettles?"

"How long were you in with Prime dealing with the aftermath of all this?" Ratchet asked. "When was the last time you refuelled?"

"I – okay, good point," Prowl replied with a smile.

He stood, finished his energon, and picked up a second cube; quickly downing it.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, taking Ratchet's hand in his own and pulling him off the couch.

"Only if you'll join me," Ratchet said suggestively as he stood and pulled Prowl into an embrace.

"Ratch, we're trying to get you clean," Prowl said with mock severity.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Ratchet asked.

He leaned in and kissed Prowl gently, pulling him close and running his hand over Prowl's back and closing over his left door hinge. Prowl moaned and leaned into Ratchet, deepening the kiss and closing his hands over Ratchet's hip struts. One of Ratchet's hands came up to stroke the cables in Prowl's neck causing the strategist to gasp and pull away.

"Wait, Ratch," he said breathily, placing a hand on the medic's chest. "I thought we were going to take this slow. You're tired and upset and I don't want to take advantage of you."

Ratchet smiled and pulled away, taking Prowl's hands in his own.

"You're not taking advantage of me. I'm old enough to know exactly what I'm doing," he said. "But you're right. We agreed to take it slow and I won't push."

He slowly pulled Prowl towards the wash rack.

"But we both need to wash up, and I know that I could certainly use some help reaching my back," he said with a suggestive smile.

Prowl allowed himself to be led without protest.

"I thought you wanted to get back to work," he said as they stepped into the white tiled wash rack.

"I'm just suggesting that we get washed up," Ratchet said. He let go of one of Prowl's hands and reached back to turn on the water. "And I've been thinking that maybe, just maybe, Jack was right. He can handle things and he'll let me know if anything changes."

"So you'll get some recharge?" Prowl asked as he ran his hand over Ratchet's chest, pushing the medic under the stream.

"I don't know about that," Ratchet said as he pulled Prowl close. "Maybe later I will. But right now I want to just relax a bit."

"Well, I think I can help you with that. Turn around," Prowl said as he took Ratchet by the shoulders and turned him around gently.

He pulled a bottle of cleanser off the shelf and began to work the cream into the joints of Ratchet's shoulders. The medic groaned and leaned against the wall, cradling his head on his crossed arms.

"Hmmm … that feels good," Ratchet whispered.

"Good," Prowl replied as he continued to clean Ratchet's back, running his fingers into joints and transformation seams, cleaning out dirt and old lubricant.

"I thought we were taking it slow," Ratchet said with a slight shiver as he leaned back against Prowl's hands.

"Sorry," Prowl replied. "I'll just-"

Ratchet turned and took Prowl's hands in his own, bringing them up to kiss the tips gently.

"I never said stop," he said as he kissed the palm of Prowl's hand. "I just want to be sure that we both want this. You haven't had the best day either and I don't want to push."

Prowl pulled out of Ratchet's grip and placed his hands on the medic's face, forcing him to look him in the optics.

"Ratchet," he said. "We're dancing again. We keep circling the subject, and I don't want to keep it up."

"I just-," Ratchet began.

Prowl kissed Ratchet gently, cutting him off.

"I'm a Datsun not a Labroghini," he said as he took Ratchet's hands in his own. "I have all the patience in the world and am fully happy to wait." He kissed the tip of one finger gently. "I want this to be special." Prowl kissed another finger, causing Ratchet to swallow a gasp. "To be more than just interface," he said as he kissed the palm of Ratchet's left hand. "And just like you, I am more than old enough to know what I'm doing."

Ratchet looked down at Prowl, his optics darkening to near indigo.

"I want this," he whispered, his voice lowered to a near growl. "I need this. I need you."

He leaned in and kissed Prowl deeply and passionately. He wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him tight against him. Prowl moaned as Ratchet's fingers worked into the area around his door wings. He backed Ratchet against the wall and broke the kiss, pulling away slightly.

"Let me finish getting you clean," he said with an uncharacteristic leer.

He grabbed the bottle and began to spread the cleanser over Ratchet's chest, running small circles along the seal of his windshield. The medic leaned against the wall with a moan, taking hold of Prowl's hips and pulling him closer. Prowl slowly ran his hands down Ratchet's chest, under the edges of his bumper and over his headlights.

"Hmmmmm …. Prowl!" Ratchet gasped as he threw his head back, hands clenching in a spasm.

Prowl moaned as Ratchet activated the sensor nodes in his hips and ran his fingers up his sides, stroking the seams as he went. It felt like liquid fire running through his systems and it was all he could do to not collapse at Ratchet's feet.

"Primus! Ratchet, I didn't know you could do that!" he whispered.

"You'll find that medics are full of surprises," Ratchet whispered as he leaned in to kiss Prowl's neck.

"Hmmm," Prowl hummed as he arched his neck to give Ratchet better access. "I can't wait to learn what else you can do."

"I think that I'll be happy to demonstrate," Ratchet replied as he ran his fingers over Prowl's headlights, drawing a groan from the strategist.

Ratchet wiped a handful of cleanser off his chest and began working it into the seams around Prowl's headlights and over his chest. Slowly he ran his hands up Prowl's sides, teasing the seams and nodes as he went; drawing needy little noises out of the strategist's vocalizer.

For his part, Prowl was hardly a passive recipient. His hands moved over Ratchet's boxy form, exploring his chest, sides, hips, and midriff. He didn't have the ability to activate nodes, but he had the patience of Primus himself, and he was determined to turn Ratchet into a puddle at his feet. With a wicked grin worthy of one of the Twins, Prowl ran his fingers over the edges of a gap in Ratchet's armour. It was far too tight a space for his fingers to fit, but, just like Ratchet, he too had tricks. With a slight twitch, he released thin data filaments from his wrists and encouraged them into the gap, using them to stroke the sensitive wires under Ratchet's armour. He felt the medic freeze at the touch, then, suddenly, he began to shiver. Burying his face into Prowl's shoulder, he let out a feral moan and grabbed the strategist in a crushing embrace, his field flaring up wildly.

"What was that?" Ratchet asked breathlessly, as he let Prowl go, still shaking slightly.

"You're not the only one with tricks," Prowl replied smugly. He brought his fingers up and showed Ratchet the filaments.

"I can honestly say I never thought of that," Ratchet said as he stroked the side of Prowl's face, activating dormant nodes in his cheek and drawing a ragged, throaty moan out of his lover. "I wouldn't have taken you for playing dirty."

"All's fair in love and war," Prowl whispered. He captured Ratchet's thumb in his mouth and quickly swirled his glossa around the tip while running his data filaments over the wires in Ratchet's wrist.

The sensations in the medic's overly sensitive hand were enough to send him over the edge. His field flared out wildly with a crackling of static and he cried out as he lost complete control over his systems. Prowl was caught up in the overload, leaning against his lover heavily, but keeping enough control to gather up his own field and plunge it deeply into the medic. They cried out in harmony, vocalizers screaming out their release.

Slowly Ratchet slipped down the wall, taking Prowl with him, keeping his lover close. The water continued to cascade down their bodies, helping to cool their overheated systems.

"Wow," Ratchet said dumbly as soon as he regained his voice. "That was just … wow."

Prowl let out a contended sigh before leaning against Ratchet, holding him close. A slight nod was the only sign that he was still active and aware.

"Come on," Ratchet said with a groan and he tried to sit up. "We need to get out of here. All this moisture's gonna wreak havoc with our internals."

Prowl pushed himself away and stood with a slight groan, offering a hand to help Ratchet up.

"Don't tell me that you're planning on going back to work?" he asked, trying to keep a stern note out of his voice, as he turned off the water.

Ratchet smiled and pulled his lover close, placing a chaste kiss first on his lips, then his chevron before pulling him into a close embrace.

"My only plan, love, is to take you into the main room where we will recharge on that fantastic berth of yours," he said gently. "And then, after we've gotten our energy back - and assuming that Wheeljack doesn't need me in the Med Bay - I plan on finding out exactly what it takes to make your sirens go off."

"I think I can agree to that," Prowl said with a smile. "But only on one condition."

"Condition?" Ratchet asked, arching his chevron in surprise.

"Yes," Prowl replied as they walked back into the main room, arm in arm. "I get study those magnificent hands of yours."

"I think I can agree to that," Ratchet chuckled.

He leaned in to kiss Prowl. At first it was chaste, but the passion rose and he lowered his lover to the berth.

"I thought you needed recharge," Prowl gasped as Ratchet ran his fingers down Prowl's chest and over the edges of his interface port.

"I suddenly got a second wind," Ratchet replied, kissing Prowl's chest and moving slowly down his body peppering every inch with gentle kisses.

"Ratchet, I … hmmmm," Prowl broke off with a deep throated groan as Ratchet ran his glossa over the edges of his interface cover. "Are you sure you want to – Ouch!"

Ratchet sat up suddenly and was instantly at Prowl's side.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked as he looked over his lover's body for any damage.

"I just pinched my door wing," Prowl replied apologetically. "I'm not used to being on my back like that."

"Not used …," Ratchet broke off with a chuckle. "I of all people should know better. I think I must be more tired than I thought; that I'm missing something so basic. Never put a Datsun on his back."

"That's one lesson, I suppose," Prowl said with a wicked smile. "The other would be that Datsuns always top."

He pushed Ratchet down on the berth with one hand, while running the other down the medic's side, working fingers and data filaments into armour gaps and stroking the sensitive wiring within. He leaned over and kissed Ratchet, muffling the moans and whimpers being pulled from his vocalizer.

Prowl's hands roamed Ratchet's body as their kiss deepened, glossa entwining. Ratchet responded in kind, using the sensors in his fingertips to activate the nodes in Prowl's door wings and across his back. Prowl's field sang out as he moaned into Ratchet's mouth. Their movements were frantic, desperate, needy. He broke off the kiss and moved his mouth down to Ratchet's neck, biting into the soft skin and cables there, causing the medic to swallow a gasp that quickly turned into a lusty moan. As Prowl lay atop him, Ratchet worked his fingers into a gap in the strategist's armour, stroking the delicate wiring he found there, drawing out a whimper that rose to a throaty cry. Prowl's hands moved slowly down Ratchet's front, searching desperately for his port cover as he was swept away by a hungry and demanding need.

All the trials of the day, the battle, the children, the press, all of it was swept away as he worked Ratchet's body, playing it like a finely tuned instrument. He lost himself in the moment. All that was was here. All that mattered was now. And they were the only two people in the world. Prowl buried his face in Ratchet's shoulder and cried out as the medic found a bundle of untouched nodes and set them alight with a touch. He shuddered for a moment as overload threatened to overwhelm him. Once it passed he moved down Ratchet's body training kisses and running his glossa over sensitized nodes, drawing whimpers and moans from his lover. At Prowl's urging Ratchet's port cover slid aside with a soft click and he captured Ratchet's left hand with his own. He gently stroked Ratchet's palm before kissing the tips of his fingers lightly. Ratchet's right hand shot out and grabbed hold of Prowl's shoulder as the strategist ran his glossa sensually over his fingers.

"Uhn! Prowl!" Ratchet cried out as the strategist slid his finger into his open port, working his cable free of its chamber.

Ratchet barely heard Prowl's port cover slide aside over the sound of his own overclocking systems. But he certainly felt it as the strategist thrust his cable home, flooding the medic's systems with everything that was Prowl, even as he continued to play with the end of Ratchet's cable. He rolled the end between his fingers, rubbing the tip expertly. Ratchet's hips rose up from the bed, thrusting against Prowl as his body tried desperately to make a connection of its own. He felt Prowl's hands brushing his Spark with ghostly fingers, bringing him closer and closer to overload.

"Please," he whispered huskily. "Please, let me …"

"No," Prowl said, as he continued to work his way around his systems, playing his body, drawing gasps, moans, and cried from his vocalizer. "Not yet. Almost, but not yet."

Ratchet's systems were quickly redlining as he lost himself to Prowl's touch. And just when he thought that it couldn't become any more intense, Prowl plugged his cable into Ratchet's port, sending him fully over the edge.

The overload spread from medic to strategist, filling both their systems before rolling back in a circle of feedback. They cried out in lust and release, not caring that they were both loud enough to be heard across the Ark. His arms wrapped tightly around his lover, Prowl leaned into Ratchet, shuddering as the energy in his system slowly dissipated. After a final shiver passed through them, Prowl reached down and unplugged their locked interface ports before collapsing atop Ratchet in an exhausted heap.

"What? No sirens?" Ratchet asked with a tired smile.

Prowl chuckled. "Maybe next time. After all, we have all the time in the world."

"… I love you …," Ratchet whispered as he slowly slipped into recharge.

"I love you too," Prowl replied quietly as he quickly followed his lover into recharge. "Always and forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Transformers belong to Hasbro and Takara, and are licensed to IDW and DreamWorks. My original characters are my own and any similarity between them and any existing characters from canon or fandom is purely coincidental. I claim no ownership by writing this work.


End file.
